


Level Playing Field

by AtropaAzraelle (Polyoxyethylene)



Series: Of Walls and Nerds [16]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blindfolds, Established Relationship, Injury, M/M, PWP, diabetes warning, it doesn't really have a plot, just feelings, kinky healing sex, well it heals their relationship anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 15:49:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10700151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyoxyethylene/pseuds/AtropaAzraelle
Summary: Still emotionally reeling from events in Altissia, Ignis takes matters in hand before Gladio's inability to move past the fact he was injured does some long term damage to their relationship.





	Level Playing Field

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not dead, and I'm not done, I just moved house. Life's a bit busy, installments may be slow, but my word I am still all up in this ship. I ship for the long haul, I really do. 
> 
> This follows on from Cartanica. As always, comments and kudos are appreciated. So many of you are writing such wonderful works of your own, I felt it was about time I gave a little more back.

“Iggy.” Gladio could hear the wary hesitation in his own voice as Ignis shut the door to the train compartment. He dropped the stick to one side, letting it rest against the compartment wall, out of the way, and started to remove his gloves. “I don't know about this,” Gladio said.

“Prompto and Noct are in the dining car,” Ignis said, his voice reasonable, calm, like he was explaining the factors of a plan step by step for someone that wasn't up to speed on a situation yet. “We won't be risking interruptions.”

“That's not what I mean.”

“Are you no longer attracted to me?” The words cut through the air like an expert throw of a dagger, and Gladio felt it land in his gut, with pinpoint precision. He opened his mouth to try and answer, and the words wouldn't come. Ignis turned towards him slowly, gloves tucked neatly into the frame of the bunk where he'd know to collect them again. “Are my scars so severe as to mar everything between us?”

Gladio wanted to answer, he really did. He wanted to tell Ignis that no, he was still beautiful, that Gladio still wanted him, still loved him. He still loved him, and that was the problem. Gladio raised his hand, fingers stopping and hovering in the air an inch from Ignis's skin, from the ruined beauty of Ignis's features. “Every time I look at you,” Gladio murmured, the uncomfortable truth weighing heavy on his chest, “I remember you lying there. I thought I'd lost you.”

Ignis brushed his fingers against Gladio's chest, and Gladio's breath caught and held at the contact. Soft, warm skin found the scar Gilgamesh had given him. Ignis had been quietly furious with him for most of a day when he'd found out what Gladio's _business_ had been, but Gladio hadn't found that out until the following night when they'd returned to the Leville and Ignis had got him alone. “If you ever _dare_ ,” he'd said, “do that to me again, Gladiolus Amicitia, I will personally see to it that you regret it for the remainder of your extremely short life.”

Ignis's fury had stoked a sense of guilt Gladio had tried to ignore, but the fires of anger had been banked with kisses and apologies made against Ignis's skin. After their private reunion, and Gladio making Ignis's whole body shiver with pleasure, and his mind go silent, they'd curled up together to sleep. Gladio had lain there, with Ignis in his arms, on the edge of sleep when he'd felt fingers trace over his chest and find the scar. He'd heard the resigned, mournful sigh, and felt Ignis rest his head in the crook of Gladio's shoulder, and Gladio's heart had given an uncomfortable lurch in his chest.

It did the same again now as Ignis's fingers traced that same path. “Then you need to stop looking,” Ignis said. His fingers skipped over Gladio's skin when Gladio's chest jumped with his derisive huff. “Pass me my spare shirt?”

Gladio looked at Ignis, confusion etched on his own face, and nothing but blank serenity on that of Ignis. He looked like that a lot these days; flashes of thoughtfulness would cross, occasionally, but they lacked reasons to smile lately, and without someone to share a look with, mostly Ignis's facial expression was a mask of calm that Gladio knew covered a roiling cauldron of thoughts and feelings.

He pulled away from Ignis's fingers and went into their bag. They weren't carrying much; a change of clothes, some gil, a handful of elixirs. The things they'd faced in Altissia, the hardships they expected to await them in Gralea, were beyond the ability of mere potions to heal any more. He found Ignis's spare shirt neatly folded in the bottom and pulled it out.

Ignis held a hand out, waiting, and when the material landed in his fingers he added, “Get the lubricant while you're there, please.”

“Iggy,” Gladio protested, tiredly. He didn't know if he could. He knew how much Ignis wanted it, and by the goddess Gladio wanted it too, but every time his thoughts turned to it, turned to Ignis, he saw the scars, and saw the man lying bandaged and weak in an Altissian bed. He saw the stumbles, the way Ignis felt for everything on the table before he began to eat, making his mental map of where everything was. Every time he thought of sleeping with Ignis he saw the milky white glaze of his good eye, and it felt _wrong_ to think about anything more.

“Gladio,” the answer was his own name. It was said firmly, but not scolding, and not wearily. “Let me try this? Please?”

It was the request that did it. The quietness of the plea, the implication that Ignis was hanging a lot more on whatever he'd been thinking to try than simply whether or not he got laid today. “Where do you want the lube?” Gladio asked.

“Under the pillow, to the right hand side, please.” There was a flash of relief in Ignis's expression, and Gladio felt his heart lurch again.

Gladio turned, and put the lube in its place. Ignis needed things putting exactly where he wanted, or leaving exactly where he'd left them in order for him to find them again. He relied on memory now, where vision failed him, and it was pretty impressive to see him navigate the compartment as if he could see where everything was. Gladio turned to see Ignis had wound the shirt into a strip of cloth. “What are you planning?” he asked, eyeing the material.

“A level playing field,” Ignis answered, his head tilting slightly in question. “I intend to share my experience of blindness with you.”

Gladio looked down at the twisted shirt in Ignis's hands, and couldn't help but give a small laugh. “You know, a few weeks ago, I'd have been teasing you about getting coy with your kinky side.”

It earned him a smile from Ignis that was like the sun bursting into the room, and Gladio basked in it for a moment. “I did always enjoy being blindfolded.”

“Tied up, too,” Gladio replied, and he luxuriated in the warm feeling of seeing Ignis smile the way he always used to.

“Perhaps next time,” Ignis answered, and then stepped forward, raising his arms. Gladio put his hands over Ignis's and guided him to press the shirt over his eyes, and held it in place there as Ignis ran the sleeves around the back of Gladio's head, and tied it there. “Comfortable?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Gladio answered putting his arms down, slowly, unsure of where exactly Ignis was in relation to himself now.

Ignis's hand caught his own in mid-air, and Gladio felt his breath catch with the surprise. “Good,” Ignis said, and then a hand curled around the back of Gladio's neck, tugging him down, and a mouth landed against his. It wasn't even off-centre, Gladio realised, as Ignis kissed him, the movement tender, but firm. Gladio felt the heat of his mouth, the brush of his lips. He could feel the scar that had split Ignis's bottom lip, a tiny imperfection that hadn't been there before, but mostly he could feel the aching familiarity of Ignis's mouth, and the press of his tongue.

Gladio sent his arms forward, finding Ignis's sides, running his hands to Ignis's back before he pulled him in, closing the distance between them and kissed him back. He'd _missed_ this, missed this more than he'd realised. Ignis's hand at the back of his neck moved to brush over the wiry hair of an unshaved cheek, and the other curled against his upper arm as Ignis pressed his whole body closer.

The sound of their kissing reached Gladio's ears, the wet press of mouths, Ignis's shortening breath as kisses that had started steady and gentle became more urgent. Gladio tracked his hand down Ignis's back, finding where his shirt was tucked into his trousers, travelling further down to cup his hand around the shape of Ignis's rear and tug his hips in against Gladio's own.

Ignis's warmth, the way his back arched as his body moved to fit in against Gladio's was heavenly. It was familiar and comforting, like sliding into well loved clothing that had come to fit just right. Gladio groaned softly, pulling his mouth away from Ignis's to find his neck, that spot just behind and below his ear that made Ignis pliant in his arms. The sound of Ignis's happy sigh, the soft murmur of approval that followed it as Gladio pressed his lips against Ignis's neck sent a shiver down Gladio's spine.

Hands found Gladio's waist, slipping under the leather of his jacket and traced up the muscle languorously. Ignis had always enjoyed the feel of Gladio's musculature beneath his hands, had always found the edges of abdominals with his fingertips and let his hands walk them like a path up Gladio's body. He used to enjoy looking, too, Gladio remembered with a pang. Ignis always wore a look like it was his birthday, and he was settling in to enjoy unwrapping his presents when he had Gladio's wrists bound to the bed.

He wouldn't be able to do that any more, but touch? Oh he could touch. He could learn the layout of Gladio's body with his fingers just like he did a table, or a room, he could memorise it, and learn to walk it like an expert.

He already had a headstart, Gladio realised, as fingers traced along the outer edge of his nipples so surely, he'd have sworn Ignis could see what he was doing. Then hands shifted up, higher, and Gladio pulled back to allow Ignis to brush the leather jacket from his shoulders. It dropped to the floor behind him with a soft slap, and then Ignis breathed in slowly, deeply, savouring the moment before he leaned in and pressed his mouth to Gladio's collarbone. Ignis's hands rested on his shoulders, and brushed down his arms as Ignis sank down, tongue and lips brushing over Gladio's skin. Ignis's breath ruffled the air against Gladio's chest, and stomach, and Gladio followed Ignis's progress down with a hand to his shoulder.

“You sure?” he asked, found himself asking as he felt his belt pull tight, and then loosen.

“Far be it for me to instruct anyone to use their brain less,” Ignis replied, his voice emanating from around Gladio's hips, “but it would help if you would stop thinking.”

Gladio couldn't help his small laugh, and he was rewarded with a soft press of Ignis's lips to the skin just above his waistband. He felt the movement before he heard the zipper, the sound almost intolerably loud in the quiet of the room, and he heard the zipper before he felt his trousers loosen, and then fall away. Ignis hands found his thighs, running up the back of them to land on Gladio's buttocks, and Gladio could feel Ignis's exhaled breath shifting in his hair.

Gladio swallowed. He was half hard already, and the wait for Ignis to do anything seemed interminably long. He held himself still, waiting for a sensation, anything but the brush of shifting hair as Ignis breathed, so close that Gladio didn't know how he couldn't feel anything else already. Then something pressed against the base of his cock, hot, and firm, with something wet sliding over his skin. The feeling moved, as Ignis shifted to mouth at the underside of his cock, pressing open mouthed kisses against Gladio, licking at the flesh he circled with his mouth.

Gladio groaned, feeling himself growing harder, and Ignis peppered his cock with those kisses, feeling out every square inch with his lips and his tongue. His hands remained on Gladio's buttocks as he familiarised himself, _re-_ familiarised himself with Gladio's cock with nothing more than his mouth.

Gladio let himself fall into the sensation of it. He slid one hand over Ignis's, fingers brushing at the back of Ignis's hand in wordless affection, and silent encouragement, and found Ignis's head with his other hand, sinking into his hair. “Iggy,” he said, softly. His only answer was a murmur before Ignis pressed his mouth to Gladio's cock again. “I've fucking missed this,” he said, finding the corner of Ignis's forehead with his thumb and brushing tenderly.

There was an amused huff from the region of his groin, and then a wet, sucking kiss was pressed to the head of his cock and Gladio breathed in deeply. Ignis's mouth pulled away, and then returned, and sank down over his cock. Gladio groaned with relief as Ignis's amazing mouth engulfed him, and he slipped his fingers under Ignis's hand and curled them to hold it. The heat and wetness of Ignis's mouth, the movement of his tongue against Gladio's cock was incredible. Ignis had never been able to swallow him whole, Gladio's length and girth had been too much for Ignis's gag reflex to take, and it had never mattered because Ignis could do things with just his tongue against the head of Gladio's cock that made Gladio weak at the knees.

He brought his hand out from Ignis's hair to find the base of his own cock, holding it steady as Ignis started to suck in earnest. The noise was lewd, the air filled with Ignis's breath, and Gladio's murmurs, and the wet, slick sound of sucking. Ignis breathed when he pulled back, murmured as he sank down again, and the noise rippled through Gladio and drew a groan from him.

He groaned again as Ignis's hand shifted, slipping between his buttocks, and brushed over the flesh there. It had been too long, and aside from a quick tug to relieve some tension, Gladio hadn't exactly been keeping himself primed. Ignis's finger circling and pressing against his ass was a sensation he'd gone for too long without, and the steady, rhythmic suck of Ignis's mouth around his cock was making pleasure coil in his abdomen sooner than he'd have liked.

“Iggy, I'm not gonna last,” he warned. His self control was usually better, but it had been so long, he'd missed it so much that it was difficult not to surrender to it and let the temptation to just finish in Ignis's mouth win out.

After a few more sucks Ignis withdrew, and Gladio mourned the loss of his heat with a murmur. He heard the shift as Ignis found his feet, felt the air move as Ignis stood, and took his hand. The material of Ignis's trousers pressed against Gladio's cock as he moved in, and pressed an expertly aimed kiss to Gladio's mouth. Gladio tasted himself on Ignis's tongue, and rolled his hips in against Ignis, the friction being so much less satisfying than Ignis's mouth, but better than nothing.

“I want to take you,” Ignis said, his lips brushing against Gladio's as he spoke.

“Fuck yes,” Gladio replied, winding his arm around Ignis's waist and rolling his hips into him again. Ignis had been the only one that ever had taken Gladio, and he'd got so damn good at it.

“Lose the trousers,” Ignis instructed, “and get on the bed.”

Losing the trousers was trickier than anticipated, and Gladio nearly fell over in his haste and his blindness. He kicked them off, one foot becoming entangled and throwing him off balance as he tried to make for the bunk and disentangle himself at the same time. He heard a laugh as he caught himself on the bedframe and finally rid himself of his trousers.

“Eager, aren't you?” Ignis teased, and Gladio felt warmth bloom in his chest at the sound. He wanted to remove the blindfold, to see what Ignis looked like, laughing at him and his enthusiasm, but there'd be other chances, he decided. Lots of them. He'd make sure of it.

“Yeah, well,” Gladio defended, a grin on his own face, and he could hear the lift it gave to the words. He could hear his smile, he realised. Ignis could heard it too. “It's been a while.” He sat down on the edge of the bunk, careful to feel for the upper bunk so he didn't bang his head on it as he did.

“Might I remind you,” Ignis said, and fuck but Gladio could hear the smile in his voice too, the gentle amusement, and the way the words were twisted slightly by the curve of his mouth, “that you were the one holding out on me?”

“I'm an idiot,” Gladio acknowledged, reaching out blindly until he caught something. The feel of hardwearing material under his hands told him it was Ignis's leg, and Ignis's hand found his soon after. Gladio drew him in, running his hands up Ignis's thighs to find his belt and unbuckle it for him. Material brushed over the back of his hands as he did, telling him that Ignis had untucked, and was unbuttoning his shirt.

“On occasion,” Ignis agreed, amiably, “but you're my idiot.”

Gladio left Ignis's belt hanging loose before he ran his hands up the planes of Ignis's stomach and sides. He was always so lean, an athlete's build, he'd thought once, and had refined his estimation to a gymnast's after he'd seen the ease with which Ignis backflipped and cartwheeled and sprang around when sparring. He did it in battle too, and normally Gladio would have dismissed it as a waste of energy, but Ignis's prowess was in his speed and his accuracy, and the precision execution of his flashy little moves made him a hard target to hit, and even harder one to avoid.

He was, of course, showing off, too. Gladio had realised that when he'd seen Ignis flip three times in succession, go into a one handed flip, jump into a flip again, and then bring his polearm down into the beast they were fighting. He'd flashed Gladio a smirk afterwards, and Gladio had kept him out by the campfire that night until the kids had gone to bed, and then he'd sucked Ignis's cock under the stars, delighting in the way Ignis arched in his chair as he came down Gladio's throat.

“I love you,” Gladio said, burying his face against Ignis's stomach for a moment and breathing him in, the memories of all the times they'd shared sparking fires in his chest, and how often had he really said those words? He could never say them enough. “More than you could ever know,” he added.

Ignis's hand found its way into his hair, and brushed through the strands. “I think I have a pretty good idea,” he replied. His fingers trailed down, to find Gladio's jaw, and lift Gladio's chin up. A thumb, it was definitely a thumb, Gladio knew, because of its size, brushed over his lips, and then Ignis took a small step back and there was the sound of him removing his own trousers.

“How do you want me?” Gladio asked, listening to Ignis get naked, and wishing he could see it right now. He was so damned beautiful, despite the scars.

“Do you still prefer to be on your back?” Ignis asked. Gladio thought he could hear him picking his trousers up and folding them. They both enjoyed being face to face while they made love, and making love was definitely what it was when they were face to face, but for sheer toe-curling pleasure, Ignis made the best noises when he was on his front, hips slightly raised while Gladio rode him into the bed, and Gladio did better on his hands and knees.

“I want to hold you,” Gladio admitted, the words coming out more quietly than he'd intended.

The room seemed still for a moment, and Gladio wondered what Ignis was thinking, what expression he was wearing. “On your back, then,” Ignis said, his voice soft, and warm.

Gladio leaned back, making himself comfortable on the bed. The bunk was small, and with two of them it was going to be cramped, but they'd fit into tighter spaces together. There had been cramped nights in the tent, when Noctis had taken up half the space, and Ignis had slept practically on top of Gladio, and the slim beds in the cheap hotels, that had necessitated sharing, or sleeping on the floor.

He crooked his knee, keeping the other one down so Ignis could slide in over him, and Ignis did, using his hands to find Gladio's position on the bed, to bring himself in over him and within reach for a long and loving kiss. Ignis's naked form pressed into his, and Gladio relaxed into the bed with Ignis in his arms as Ignis kissed him like he could do it all day.

“I love you,” Ignis said, softly, his hand against Gladio's cheek as he broke apart from the kiss, and his breath brushed past Gladio's mouth. “I don't say that often enough.”

Gladio swallowed, finding the warmth of Ignis's body resting on top of his to be something he'd missed more than anything else. More than Ignis's kisses, more than Ignis's tongue against his cock, more than Ignis's fingers, he'd missed the simple warmth of Ignis's presence in his arms. “Neither of us do,” he admitted, coiling his arms around Ignis and holding him tight. “You don't need to say it for me to know.”

“Nor do you,” Ignis replied, and then there was another long and luxurious kiss that grew slowly more fervent. Ignis's tongue slid in against Gladio's until their breath was short, and then he pulled away, working his mouth and teeth against Gladio's throat. His hands tracked over Gladio's arms, and chest, running down further to find his still erect cock and grip it firmly, giving it a stroke or two until Gladio arched beneath him.

“Fuck, I want you,” Gladio groaned, rolling his hips upwards, into Ignis's hand. He ran his own hands over Ignis's back, and thighs, and then found Ignis's own cock and gave that a good few strokes, making sure he was hard.

Ignis only answered with a murmur, and then his hand disappeared from around Gladio's cock. He felt the pillow shift, and made himself relax as he listened to Ignis flick the cap off the lubricant. He moved, nearly slipping out of Gladio's reach, but Gladio bore the loss of closeness no matter how distressing it was, knowing it was temporary.

When Ignis's warmth settled back into his arms, a hand found its way to the cleft of Gladio's ass, and he lifted his leg higher so Ignis would have easier access. Ignis pressed a kiss to his collarbone as he slipped a fingertip inside, and Gladio groaned happily at the intrusion.

A fingertip became a finger, pressing deep inside him, and Gladio wound his fingers into Ignis's hair as he worked him, giving him wordless encouragement. It had been too long since they'd done this. Ignis enjoyed being taken by Gladio, the feel of Gladio's cock inside him, the way he and Gladio seemed built for each other as Gladio unfailingly found his prostate and made his body rock with pleasure. He enjoyed it as much as Gladio enjoyed being taken by Ignis, but it was always so easy to just pin Ignis to the bed and fuck him until his voice was hoarse and his legs wobbled. Gladio didn't rest back often enough and let Ignis return the pleasure. He loved giving it, he loved taking care of Ignis that way. The last time they'd done this had been back in Caem, before they'd set off, when Noct had been out with Prompto and Iris attending the gardens, and Cor and Cid had been in the underground port beneath the lighthouse, and Dustin and Monica had been getting supplies. Ignis had taken him then, hand splayed over Gladio's chest, over the new scar, and they'd collapsed together afterwards, and kissed, and held, and then showered and rejoined a world that had, for a blissful hour, been absent from their lives.

The world fell away again now as Ignis pressed in deeply with one finger and pleasure shot through Gladio like a jolt of electricity, making him groan loudly. He only faintly heard the satisfied huff from Ignis before one finger became two, and Ignis worked him again, his pressing of Gladio's prostate becoming considered and calculated movements that made Gladio buck as he was caught off guard.

“Careful,” Ignis hushed him, as two fingers became three and Gladio swore. “These walls are thin.”

Gladio snorted, wrapping his arms around Ignis and pulling him in, so that there was nothing but Ignis's warmth, and Ignis's skin, and the stretch and slide and thrust of Ignis's fingers inside him. “Maybe I want people to hear you fucking me,” he retorted, his back arching as Ignis found his prostate again. “Maybe I want them to know you're mine,” he said, his voice rising at the end as Ignis drove his fingers home once more and the sheer delight of it bounced through Gladio's spine and up into his chest and throat.

“Or that you're mine,” Ignis replied, and his mouth covered Gladio's as he worked his fingers into him again, swallowing the sounds of Gladio's pleasure in a kiss, taking his mouth with his tongue in recreation of what he was doing with his hand.

Gladio tightened his fist in Ignis's hair. “Just take me already,” he groaned, his lips working against Ignis's as he spoke, and he felt the way Ignis responded. He felt the pull of his lips as he smiled, as he _smirked_ , that devious, wicked delight in victory, and feeling it was almost better than seeing it.

Ignis pulled back, and braced Gladio's knee against his upper arm. Gladio could feel the warm press of Ignis's cock against himself, and he pressed his head back into the pillow, waiting for it. Ignis pushed in slowly, and the stretch and intrusion, the deeply personal intimacy of Ignis sliding inside him, where only Ignis had ever been was almost too much. Gladio groaned, long, and slow, until he felt Ignis come to rest, buried inside him, as close as the two of them could ever physically get.

Gladio reached out, pulled Ignis in close, muttered, “I love you,” in a breathless murmur against Ignis's forehead, brushing the twisted skin of his scars with his lips. Then Ignis kissed him again, adjusted Gladio's leg, and withdrew.

The sensation as Ignis's cock dragged out over sensitive flesh was _divine_ , and Gladio made his pleasure known with his voice. His long, low groan became a yelp, a sharp gasp, a swear as Ignis thrust in again and his cock hit Gladio's prostate as expertly as his fingers had. Ignis fucked him, with a steady rhythm, with expert precision, until the noises Gladio made no longer differentiated between the movements of Ignis's hips.

Ignis pressed in deeper, covering Gladio's mouth with a kiss, his tongue sweeping in to taste the cries of ecstasy, and his fingers found Gladio's hand, twining through Gladio's fingers and pressing the back of Gladio's hand into the pillow. Gladio let himself be lost in it for a while, in every place Ignis's body was in contact with his, in how few places weren't touching. The sound of Ignis fucking him filled the room, the steady slap of skin, and slick sounds of Ignis's cock moving into him covered over by Gladio's own cries and groans of pleasure, and the pants and quiet murmurs from Ignis that indicated he was steadily losing his own mind to it, too. He could smell sweat, and sex, and the lingering hint of coffee on Ignis's breath.

He reached down between them both, and grasped his cock in his hand, stroking himself firmly, trying to keep a rhythm with Ignis. He couldn't quite match him, the sharp spikes of delirium inducing pleasure throwing his timing off a little, but it didn't matter. “I'm gonna come,” he warned, “but don't stop.”

Ignis didn't reply, just grunted, and Gladio felt Ignis tuck his head into the crook of his neck as he fucked him. Gladio only got a couple more strokes in before Ignis drove into him again at just the right moment, and the pleasure became white hot, scorching through his cock, and hips, and spine, and chest, and up into his brain. He cried out something unintelligible as he came hard against Ignis's stomach, and barely heard Ignis hiss a, “ _Fuck_ ,” of his own against his shoulder.

Ignis thrust into him a handful more times, the sensation being overwhelming for Gladio, making him cry out again on each thrust, not sure if it was pleasurable or agonising. He settled on pleasurable when Ignis shuddered, giving one last thrust into him, fingers curling tight into Gladio's hand as he cried out himself.

Ignis collapsed against him, and Gladio wound his free arm around Ignis's back and held him close while Ignis regained his breath. He worked his fingers free of Ignis's hand so he could coil that arm around him too, and shifted his hips to adjust their weight.

With a sigh, he turned his head and pressed a kiss to Ignis's hair. “That was amazing,” he said, with a satisfied sigh. Ignis was still buried inside him, and that was blissful, too.

“I expect the whole train heard us,” Ignis muttered, his mouth half covered by Gladio's shoulder, but the boneless way he slumped into Gladio's arms was perfect, despite the atypical gracelessness.

Gladio grinned into the darkness. “Good,” he answered. “They all deserve to know how fucking incredible you are.”

There was silence for a moment, and then Ignis asked, his voice finding some of its more normal clip, “Was that a pun?” Gladio laughed, and Ignis raised a hand and smacked him lightly in the shoulder. “Hold on,” he said, the only warning he gave before he shifted and pulled himself out of Gladio. They both groaned at the sensation, and loss of sensation, and then Ignis settled back on top of Gladio. “Your puns are awful.”

“You love puns,” Gladio pointed out, coiling his arms a little more tightly around Ignis and enjoying the moment.

“I love puns when I make them. When other people make puns, they're painful.”

Gladio laughed again, and turned his head to the side to press a kiss to Ignis's temple. “I really do love you,” he said, quietly.

“I know,” Ignis replied, “and I love you.”

“More than Ebony?” Gladio asked, a grin on his face, and in his voice.

“I wouldn't go that far,” Ignis replied, quickly. Gladio laughed, and held him a little more tightly. “More than breath,” Ignis said, after a moment, when Gladio's laughter had died away. Gladio could hear the tiny smile in the words, the way _breath_ sounded ever so slightly different, suggesting an upwards curl of the lips, a flash of teeth modifying the sound.

“Being blind isn't so bad,” Gladio said, when the air had gone quiet again, but the warmth of Ignis's teasing and affection lingered. “I don't have to see you to know how beautiful you are.”

Ignis murmured, softly. “Touches, sounds, smells, tastes are all so much more important to me now. Especially touch,” he said. “I can't see your love for me any more, Gladio. I want you to make me feel it instead, just like this.”

Gladio frowned a little, taking that in, and he nodded. “I will,” he said, “I promise.”

Ignis pressed a kiss to his shoulder, and curled his arms and legs tighter around Gladio. “You can take the blindfold off now,” he said, quietly.

“Nah,” Gladio replied, “I like how this feels. Let's stay like this a bit longer.”

He felt Ignis's chest give a soft jump, heard the rush of exhalation that was Ignis's amusement. “All right.”


End file.
